


all that i ever wanted

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Birthday Party, Drunk Ignis Scientia, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Underage Drinking, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22617247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: There was something about his expression. Gladio could barely see him, silhouetted by the light beyond. From what Gladio could see Ignis was beautiful, a vision – as always – but something was very wrong.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	all that i ever wanted

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY IGNIS this is far.... far more angst than my first draft....

“Please don’t get married,” Ignis spoke up from beyond, slurred and soft, and with a soft start Gladio looked up.

There was the empty expanse of an unfamiliar bedroom separating them. Only a suitcase lay on the floor between them, dropped carelessly, and both their separate beds were pushed against the wall, blankets strewn wildly around. Ignis’ suitcase remained neatly by the door. Only the necessary items – toiletries and snacks – had been removed for their first evening away from home. Gladio’s was left wide open with several pairs of his socks and a beaten-up pack of cards spilling out of their case.

Gladio had thought he was all alone, with his hands plunged deep and committed to the process of digging through his jacket pockets on the search for Prompto’s spare inhaler. Somehow, in the midst of packing and the excitement of their celebrations he had forgotten it the original at home. Only Gladio and Ignis had thought to carry spares. Typical, but Gladio’s search had been fruitless thus far. Now his search was abandoned.

There was Ignis, in the doorway. The soft motion activated lights had flickered on as Gladio trundled through to the bedroom, cursing quietly as he stubbed his toe on a shoe rack. Each room had been dark and quiet. There had been no noise. Ignis must have crept along whilst Gladio was distracted.

The light illuminated his messy hair which pointed in too many directions. He had messed up his once crisp shirt, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons carelessly undone. Ignis’ collarbones cast a shadow along his throat. But mot even the luscious view of his skin could distract Gladio, pleasant as it was.

There was something about his expression. Gladio could barely see him, silhouetted by the light beyond. From what Gladio could see Ignis was beautiful, a vision – as always – but something was very wrong.

Gladio’s fingers met cool plastic. His skin and the air of the room was warm. The villa they had rented out had clearly not been used in a long time – few travelled to Altissian islands in the grip of February – and from the moment they arrived they too had shunned it, leaving the dull rooms in favour of the beach. The sands were tentatively warm for an hour before the sun had sent, and Gladio had built them a campfire. Though a chill had quickly sunk in, they were loathe to abandon the beautiful waves and the glistening light of distant islands. The sky was as dark as the sea, and islands were like stars set into the distant darkness of the ocean.

Silence had stretched on for too long. Ignis shifted as he awaited an answer, antsy. That in itself wasn’t uncommon – but mere minutes ago Ignis had been fine, pleasantly drunk and surrounded by friends. Surely nothing could have happened in the time he had been gone.

Gladio drew upright. He asked, the pinnacle of grace, “Huh?”

Ignis glanced at the floor. They were both barefoot and Gladio had carelessly left a trail of sand through the hall, scattering stones on the way up to the porch. It wouldn’t be their problem this weekend. Regis had informed them with a wry smile – and a stern look to Ignis – that a cleaning crew would step in the very moment they boarded the boat back to Insomnia. _You don’t want the birthday boy spending the whole of his eighteenth cleaning up, do you,_ he had asked, but still Ignis had been unstoppable. All evening every single empty beer can or bag of snacks had gone straight into a black bin bag, no matter how many drinks Ignis himself put down. It only made him more belligerently determined.

And Ignis had put down plenty. More than Gladio was expecting even during such a celebration, and only a few less than Noctis who was happy to take advantage of no parents or guards. Despite that Gladio had thought nothing of it and felt abruptly arrogant for not realising something had been terribly amiss.

“Don’t get married,” Ignis said, voice dropping even lower, quieter, coy. Still Gladio heard him as loud as day and dread filled his heart like ice.

It took a moment but Ignis looked up, expression almost hopeful. They watched each other like afraid the other might bolt. But Gladio’s hand was still stuck in his pocket. In the deathly quiet they could still hear their companions bickering ceaselessly outside, laughing and snorting amongst the crash of Altissian waves. Slow and unsteady, like the beating of Gladio’s heart.

Gladio cleared his throat. “I thought…” he began but trailed off as the words abandoned him in a time of need. _I thought you had said that,_ but it couldn’t be right. Surely he hadn’t drank so much that his desperate wishes were leaking over to reality, telling him everything he wanted to hear. The alcohol only gave him a buzz. Gladio had left them for only a few moments, leaving the closest to sober Prompto and Ignis, the only one Gladio felt consistently had his head on right no matter how much booze he had put away, in charge of the pink and snickering Noctis. When he got to his feet Ignis had reached out for him, clutching his hand and taking the last mouthful of his beer. His hold was tight. But Gladio had only laughed, shaking himself free. _I’ll be back soon._

It had been strange without a doubt. Ignis had never clung to him like he was lost, not since they were children and exploring the darkened depths of the Citadel to find the ghosts that the servants had whispered to them about. But nothing threw up red flags, got his honed Amicitia instincts on edge. Sometimes Ignis got overwhelmed. Sometimes he worried about the littlest things. But on his birthday he was being laved with attention, drinking and then drinking even more as the sun sank and the flames flickered, and Gladio knew such a reserved guy would become worrisome. And that was _fine -_

But Gladio’s future had not been up for discussion. Nothing he had said to his father had left the four walls of his office. His shoulders drew up tight and his eyes narrowed. For the first time in his life he had no idea what to say.

“I’m not getting married,” he finally lied, and lying to one of his most cherished friends, the one had loved most, tore up his chest. There were few secrets between them. But his father carried an edge to his words, a steely look in his eyes. _Don’t tell a soul,_ he had ordered, _not even to your brothers_ , and Gladio had never once disobeyed an order from his father.

He had read books before to prepare himself for his future. Dozens written by prior Shields and the royalty they served, sinking himself into the mindset of an honourable soldier who served the ultimate duty to the crown. Books by men, women. The old and the young, those bestowed the title by blood or by acts of valour. All were caught in the same snare – loyalty to your king, your country, those that they loved. It was impossible to choose them all. Only one could take your whole self – and each of them had chosen their king.

At least, all the books that his father had given to him. Whilst the royal library had turned up empty of alternative reading the internet had served Gladio well to inform him of Shields he had never heard of – those who chose family, their own lives over that of their king. And they had paid the price for it.

It had left Gladio frightened and cold. A lie told was a terrible thing, and still Gladio told it so that he wouldn’t make a liar of his own father when he denied, denied, denied. They made bastards of themselves for the good of the family line.

As if he could see all of Gladio’s torment, Ignis stared. Those eyes peered right through to the mess within. They always knew and Gladio’s desperate, deprived heart sank.

Without another word Ignis stepped into the light. He looked rougher than Gladio had thought and guilt made his skin prickle and blood freeze. It felt like sobering up. Ignis’ eyes were faintly red rimmed and Gladio could smell the beer on him. Altissian brew. The expensive stuff that not even the Amicitia could reliably order out from the islands. They had been drinking it like water and the stench filled the room.

Before all this Ignis had seemed to be enjoying himself. Laughing and smiling on the rough seas, excitement crossing his face when they saw the island grow as they neared. By the fire he nuzzled up with Prompto and then accepted his birthday cupcake with that awkward half smile that showed off his wonky canines. Gladio loved that smile. He wished it would return.

“Sit with me,” he asked, and Gladio did.

Gladio had taken the bed closest to the window. Ignis liked being closer to the door if possible and Gladio had been more than willing to give it up, content with the window and the prospect of being lulled to sleep by the sound of the waves. So they took Ignis’ bed, Gladio’s knees locked tight and his body tense while Ignis sat much more freely, the careless posture of the drunk. His glasses slipped down his nose, but he made no attempt to fix them. If the air between them was tense – and to Gladio, it absolutely was – Ignis paid it no heed.

A clumsy hand settled on Gladio’s knee. Through his thin shorts Ignis’ hand was scalding. “I didn’t want to sit by the fire if you weren’t by my side,” Ignis told him quietly. Eloquent as ever, while deep in his cups.

This was almost fine. It was better at the very least and Gladio could handle this. “That’s alright,” he tried to say reassuringly. A lull between them followed and it had never felt so awkward between the two of them before. Of course, there had been moments, like when Gladio realised the true depths of his unbrotherly feeling towards Ignis, the moments they undressed before and after training. Catching a peek of the freckles that dotted over Ignis’ shoulder blade had almost killed him. Gladio had spent too many nights with his own hand with Ignis’ cloying his thoughts, too many nights unable to sleep with worries.

There were few secrets between brothers. But still they lied, for the good of them all, and somehow Ignis knew.

“It’s been pretty full on today,” Gladio continued, and swallowed hard. “Lots of travel. You must be tired.”

“Not really,” Ignis said, and exhaled before dropping his head down upon Gladio’s shoulder. Those wonderful all-seeing eyes drifted closed. His glasses threatened to slip free entirely and Gladio carefully pushed them all the way along his nose.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight. Ignis rest against the all one time or another – but Gladio was frozen stiff. There was the sound of a loud crash of waves and a self-righteous squeal – Prompto’s trademark. Without missing a beat Ignis simply snuffled softly and his skin was warm against Gladio’s. Just like the fire and yet so much more intense. “I’m tired.”

Gladio chanced a smile. Drunk Ignis was a mess of contradictions, it seemed. “Yeah, me too. Did you want to get into bed?”

“No,” Ignis said and upon pulling away he wore a deep frown. Even at his age lines crossed his forehead. “Am I not good company?”

“You’re great, Igs. I’d just hate to keep you up when you want to sleep.”

It seemed to console him enough. Those lines disappeared but Ignis’ lips were pressed firmly. “I want another drink,” Ignis said with all the sternness of their childhood matrons but rest his head back upon Gladio’s shoulder in an instant. His cheeks squished and no doubt uncomfortable on the hard edge of bone. “Oh, Gladio, I’m sorry I’m not very good company.”

“You’re fine,” Gladio stressed. He dared to reach out and wrapped an arm around Ignis and the reaction was instantaneous – Ignis sighed happily and cuddled up closer, his own arm weaving around Gladio’s waist. One hand even reached out and took a fistful of Gladio’s shirt. Still he was elegant and wise, Ignis through and through – just sloppy, affectionate, the way he could be so rarely, and never in public. “Don’t you worry. You’re with friends tonight, and that’s what matters.”

“I am,” Ignis agreed and the smile that came with such thoughts was blissful. “Such good friends. I’m truly blessed.”

“Shucks,” Gladio murmured and when Ignis seemed content to lay silently against him, he cleared his throat softly. His thumb rubbed at his shoulder, eager to reassure. Once Ignis had been so at peace with the world, thrilled at the prospect of a weekend away from his responsibilities, with his friends and the king’s blessing. That Ignis seemed a thousand years away. Gladio hated to see it.

Ignis’ father was on the other side of the island. Far enough to avoid snooping and uninterested in crashing the games of a few teenage boys. But only a few minutes’ walk and a phone call away should the worst happen. Just in case, he had stressed, and Gladio had been grateful for it. Even more so now. He was positive they would have some reassuring words and a strong hangover cure if necessary, but when Ignis patted Ignis’ shoulder and made to leave for his phone again Ignis moaned softly, clutching him close and Gladio got the message.

He sat heavily back down. Beneath them the mattress bounced. “Igs, we can’t stay here forever. Noct’ll begin to wonder where we’re at.”

Ignis titled his head. Bright green eyes met his. “Whyever not?”

It took too long for Gladio’s brain to catch up. The implications were damning. “We can’t stay here forever,” he repeated with all the authority his birth name gave. “We still have to look after Noct, even in the - the circumstances, and I’m pretty sure Prom wanted to make s’mores before we put the fire out.”

“A little longer,” Ignis called, and something in his eyes have Gladio pause. “It’s my birthday today, and I don’t want you to get married. You’ll stay with me tonight.”

Gladio exhaled long and low. Surely the conversation had been dodged. Drunk Ignis was infuriatingly keen eyed. Gladio had never seen him under any influence before and could only hope he wasn’t aggressive or reckless. Somehow this was worse. “Igs, I’m not getting married.”

“You are,” Ignis replied with his own long-suffering sigh and shuffled closer until their thighs were touching. He was scalding hot even in the musty, dry room. Gladio quickly began to sweat. “I heard your father talking about it. Apparently, he’s picked a woman out for you and everything.”

That was more than Gladio himself had heard. The pit in his belly yawned wider and still Gladio served to play it cool, arching his brows. Ignis’ hazy eyes managed to lock onto every move he made. “That so?”

Ignis nodded. Those accursed glasses slipped down again. “Don’t do it. Don’t go.”

If only. It was a wicked fate to remain so close to what he truly wanted and yet a thousand miles away. Ignis would serve by his side always, a good friend and faithful companion. Gladio knew he should have been content with that. But he wouldn’t ever share Gladio’s bed. They would never wear each other’s ring or carry their names and it made Gladio feel sick to his stomach. “I won’t go anywhere,” Gladio said and he never would. There was no leaving Ignis now Gladio knew him so well, loved him so intensely. “Pinky promise?”

A huffed laugh came very weakly. But it lightened the mood a touch. Ignis’ hand uncurled and offered his little finger. It waited and Gladio wrapped them together, knowing this was one promise he would never break. Gladio’s heart was cease before he ever walked away. And Ignis held on tight as if afraid of another lie. “I promise I won’t go anywhere,” he promised in vain and Ignis sighed and never let go.

For the first time in weeks it was just the two of them. Too often they had buffers, fathers and their charge or their colleagues. Despite the sheer size of it and the warren of its hallways one could never be truly alone in the Citadel. The walls had eyes and ears and all those ghosts they could never find. They had no time to breath and Noctis was a ghost of their own, their shadow, as much a part of Gladio and Ignis as the ink under their skin, the initials of the four of them each had done, hidden away on the ribs.

Undeniably the time alone was pleasant. It was also awkward, Gladio left feeling as clumsy as boar left to run amok in an antique shop, tearing the centuries down. But Ignis breathed slowly and steadily and for even a handful of minutes nothing else mattered. Nothing past the curl of their fingers and how Ignis cared nothing for the already overwhelming warmth between them, needing more. Still he shuffled closer and closer, thighs touching, knees knocking.

“It’s my birthday, and I don’t want you to go,” Ignis repeated, as if the passing of a mere date meant anything to the machinations of Gladio’s bloodline, “because I want you. Want you to be mine.”

Gladio’s heart seized. Even the pounding of his blood seemed to cease. “You have me.”

“I want you,” Ignis said with all the weight of the world, and hot lips pressed against Gladio’s cheek.

Ignis’ lips were chapped from the sea breeze. The smell of salt was a suggestion, a whisper of where he had been and Gladio knew he would taste the same, if Ignis dared. They were firm and persistent, one small kiss against the scruff of Gladio’s beard and another against his bare skin, upon his stark cheekbone. Ignis eagerly planted several across his cheek and grew tantalizingly closer and closer to Gladio’s mouth. And Gladio was shock still, helpless – he took a surprised exhale and Ignis, ever the opportunist, closed the miniscule gap between their mouths.

It was brief and chaste. Ignis leant into him fully, both arms sliding to settle around Gladio’s waist. It would have been all too easy to sink into his waiting arms and Gladio wanted it more than anything. Disbelief and excitement warred inside and his exhilaration from the touch of Ignis’ skin ran rampant – but as good at the sea salt tasted the alcohol stank on Ignis’ breath. It was enough to kickstart Gladio’s mind entirely, wash his senses through. It reminded him exactly where they were.

The shame of loosing himself filled him to the brim. This wasn’t right. Ignis was anxious and vulnerable – it wasn’t truly him making these decisions and Gladio couldn’t be the one to hurt him.

Gladio pulled away. Ignis gasped when Gladio was gone and already his lips were pink. Dazed eyes carried nothing but want. Gladio could relate but couldn’t bear the sight.

Instead he looked away. “You’re drunk,” he said hurriedly, almost flustered. “You’re all muddled, Igs. I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Still Ignis teetered forward. Those arms cinched tighter around him. “I want you,” Ignis said like that was all that mattered and Gladio prayed it could have been. Ignis’ breath was warm on his lips. In another world Gladio could have sank into him – willing and blissful. He would have given Ignis anything he wanted.

Ignis’ licked his dry lips. His hungry eyes fell to Gladio’s. It was hard to ignore the pulse of want that surged through him. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve had too much. Iggy.”

Indignance flashed across Ignis’ face. It came slowly but stuck. “I know myself. I know what I want, and we’re both-”

“Ignis,” Gladio interrupted, voice as sharp as a crack of thunder. The storm clouds embroiled them both. Ignis fell silence and stared, emptiness replacing the frustration, and Gladio immediately regretted his tone. But he had to stop, before –

“You’re forgetting,” he said as kindly as he could. “You’re confused. We can’t do this.”

The hope and pleasure in Ignis’ eyes vanished. They blinked and Ignis’ expression was still, brows sinking. Slowly his hands withdrew. “But you are what I want. More than - and – and I thought that – perhaps-”

“Ignis,” Gladio said softly, simply, barely audible even in the hushed room. The light from the hallway clicked off from disuse and it was deafening. It left them in almost pure darkness – only the moonlight illuminated their faces. Ignis’ lenses gleamed almost as brightly as his eyes, lips plush and wanting and Gladio would have done anything just to kiss him again.

Those hands dropped. A creeping doubt made Ignis’ eyes gleam.

Time passed unbearably slowly. Like the lapping waves it took, and it took. Little but doubt remained on the shoreline. Ignis’ hands flexed with uncertainty and when Gladio said nothing, expression speaking only of pity and shame, Ignis finally tore his eyes away.

“Forgive me,” Gladio asked, filled with the very same shame. “It’s alright. I’m not mad at you, not at all, and I know how you feel-”

Ignis shifted away. The absence of heat left Gladio emptier. His arms wrapped loosely around himself instead as if he too were cold. “Know how I feel,” he said, and his voice was uglier, expression changing. Gladio watched a half-formed sneer grow. “Of course. I’m simply – forgetting myself, as you say.”

It was an unwinnable situation. Still Gladio attempted to claw back all he could. “I don’t mean to hurt you – I’m sorry, Iggy, but we can talk about this tomorrow. When you feel better. We’ll take some time away from the others and talk it through, alright?”

“I think-” Ignis laughed, and the bitterness was painful. Gladio knew even in this moment it wasn’t directed at him. Ignis never said a cruel word to any of them, and that made it all the worse. “I think it’s rather… it’s too late for hurting feelings, I think.”

Gladio winced. “Iggy-”

The wave of a hand cut him off. “I apologise. For forgetting myself. It was foolish of me to behave in such a – such a manner.” Ignis’ smile was cool, encroaching on cold. It was the very same look that he served to those who spoke down to him, those who thought their blood alone was right enough to treat people as lesser. Gladio couldn’t stand the thought of being one of those men who played with vulnerable hearts their whole life before running off to be wed, leaving the wounded behind.

Ignis tilted until he held his head high, forcing himself to remain noble and proud even as his hands trembled. The flush of drunkenness and embarrassment tinted his cheeks and the first tear fell. Despite sitting side by side they had never been further apart.

The feeling of having well and truly fucked something up was not a bearable one. To have ruined something so precious killed Gladio’s heart. “Iggy,” Gladio tried, desperate and Ignis suddenly stood up.

He brushed phantom dust off his lap. He swallowed hard and the light in the hallway clicked on as it sensed him. “We should return to our prince,” he said as casually as he could. Another silent tear followed and Ignis scrubbed it away with his sleeve. It was only replaced by another, promptly. “You should give Prompto his inhaler and encourage them to come inside. It’s too cold out. I will… I will gather myself for some time.”

It carried a brutal air of finality. “But-”

“Leave me be, Gladio,” Ignis said sharply, and Gladio recoiled.

Neither of them moved. Ignis stared determinedly at the far wall and it was all too clear how he trembled, how he held his own stomach as if sick. The room was cold like never before, a gentle breeze from the window chilling their skin. And Ignis spoke, quiet and measured, “I would appreciate it if you told no one of this.”

Gladio’s reply had barely time to form when there was a long, distant creak. It came from across the house and both knew it well. They jumped and Ignis bustled for the door, steadying himself on the wall before disappearing. His quick footsteps made their way towards the bathroom and Gladio had no time to give chase.

“Iggy,” Prompto called from the kitchen, as bluntly cheerful as ever. A few bottles of beer clicked together. Gladio’s heart sank into the crushing depths as Prompto set them on the marble counter and sneezed twice. Amongst the sounds, the nearby bathroom door clicked shut and locked immediately. “Ah, shit. Sorry! It’s super cold so we’re coming in. Noct said he’ll put out the fire, but he’s so drunk he’s probs just sitting on his ass. I’ll go back and help him. Did Gladdy find my inhaler?”

An empty silence spread across the house. Gladio sat empty and aimless, helpless. Still Prompto’s inhaler was cool in his palm. He said nothing.

“Guys?” He could hear Prompto’s frown. “You there?”

Tired in a way he hadn’t been before, Gladio covered his face with a hand. “In the bedroom,” he called, schooling his tone into something innocent, and prayed Prompto would never know his shame.


End file.
